Help
by beingmargoroth
Summary: Kurt and Blaine have experienced a lot together. But there's one thing that they never wanted to - at least, not yet. Not for a long time. However, when it happens, they have to stick together. Until the very end. Klaine OS. WARNING: CHARACTER DEATH.


**A/N:** **I've been in a bad mood today and that usually makes me hurt characters. But I read something on tumblr that kind of made me think about writing this - but with a disease that doesn't get enough publicity. What happens in this is basically what happened to my Aunt - and on average ****_7_ people in every 100,000 - due to it, and it's terrible. If you want more information, check out MND Association's website (just type "MNDA" into google). It's a great organisation that words tirelessly to help find a cure. **

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><p>They'd been together for thirty years.<p>

In that time, they'd supported each other through a lot. From high school bullies to being separated for a year, while Kurt went to college and Blaine stayed in Lima for school. From, house hunting in New York to moving in when Kurt had eventually found the perfect one by the park. From, getting engaged to buying the rings and writing their own vows.

But one thing they hadn't want to be experience together, and that was the illness.

It had begun with Blaine's legs. He'd never been very stable, but he began tripping more often until he couldn't stand without falling over. By then, his arms weren't very good either; he was dropping things and struggling to keep a hold of things. Worried, Kurt booked him an appointment with a doctor and sat with his hand in Blaine's as he was asked question after question to diagnosis the problem. While Kurt hoped it was just a bug, he couldn't have been more wrong.

Blaine was sent for specialist tests; brain scans and physical examinations. Kurt lost count of the months that past before it happened, before they received the news. Blaine had Motor Neurone Disease; a rare disease that effects an adults muscles, stopping the messages from the brain to them. It caused the muscles to waste away – for _Blaine_ to waste away.

He was dying and there was no cure.

At first, it was okay. Blaine took great enjoyment in wheeling Kurt around in his wheelchair, his husband sat on his lap. Months went by, and nothing changed. Then, slowly, as if it crept up on them, Blaine began to fail. His voice – his beautiful, beautiful voice – became a figure in Kurt's dreams, as Blaine lost control over the seventy two muscles he used to speak. He began to have trouble eating, needing Kurt to feed him with mashed up food.

By then, the hospice was helping, coming to sit with Blaine while Kurt was at work – although he tried to do most of his editing at home – and showing both of them how to use Blaine's lightwriter; a sort of tablet that let Blaine communicate with Kurt by slowly typing out what he wanted to say and letting it say it for him. Blaine had great fun in using this, and Kurt began to see the Blaine he remembered as he was called into the lounge for the ninth time that day for "nothing". But there were times when Blaine didn't have fun using it, struggling to use his remaining muscles to type. Kurt couldn't understand how hard it was for him, to adjust to his failing body and get frustrated as it stopped him from doing things he'd taken for granted before.

Seeing him like this was torture for Kurt. Blaine's whole fight was devastating to watch, to see the person Kurt had loved slowly shrink and die in front of him. Of course, he knew Blaine was still there, fighting against the terrible diseases as it gripped him and pulled him away. But even the smile Kurt had cherished was gone, Blaine unable to use his facial muscles to even show him how he felt. All Kurt had to rely on was his eyes… his eyes that were filled with disappointment and sorrow every time he thought Kurt wasn't able to see.

They knew what was coming, counting down the stages until they reached the last. In the beginning, Blaine had told Kurt that, when it got to it, he didn't want a tube inserted. When he couldn't eat, when he couldn't breathe, he wanted Kurt to let go. Bitterly, Kurt remembered fighting with him, an argument that had made them both cry and only ended when Kurt swore it wouldn't get to that, that he would find a way to stop the… the _monster_ that was killing Blaine.

The monster that _killed_ Blaine.

In the end, the MND wasn't to blame. Not really. It was winter, a few weeks until Christmas. The house was decorated and, after a hospital appointment, Kurt had taken his husband Christmas shopping. It was something Kurt did rarely, not liking the whispers and stares Blaine got from passers-by in the street. But Kurt knew how much Blaine loved Christmas and couldn't keep him from the festive music of the mall.

They'd walked around, picking up things for their families and friends, before travelling home. It wasn't a long journey, cut short by Blaine almost choking in Bloomingdales. The doctors had warned about Blaine's cold, how it made his lungs weak and what to do to make sure he overcame it. So, when they got back to the house, Kurt got Blaine a hot water bottle – something he requested via the use of his lightwriter, followed with an "I love you" that Kurt always echoed with teary eyes - and tucked him up in bed.

The next thing he knew was the silence of his bedroom at 6am.

No wheezy breath. No struggling movements. No Blaine.

Kurt had always found it ironic how people say someone passed away peacefully in their sleep when they probably died in agony. But he knew, for Blaine, that wasn't the case. He had passed away peacefully in his sleep. The way he'd wanted to go; with his husband but by himself.

He knew he should have been sad, to lose his best friend and his lover. And watching the people around him, Blaine's family and his college friends, burst into tears - noisy tears that shook the whole congregation and silent tears that rolled down their faces when they hoped no one would see – Kurt knew he should be the same. But he'd seen more than the others. He'd seen Blaine curse when he'd struggled to hold Kurt's favourite mug. He'd seen Blaine's face as he'd been forced to let Kurt dress him when he couldn't do it. He'd seen Blaine's eyes fall when he realised Kurt couldn't understand him.

Maybe it was selfish, and maybe it was sickening, but Kurt was glad. Kurt was glad Blaine had passed away. Now he was no longer in pain, or suffering. It wasn't like his soul – the Blaine Kurt knew – had died. No, only Blaine's body had broken. And somewhere, Blaine was waiting. He was waiting until the time came when Kurt broke too. He was waiting until they could be reunited.

But, until then, Kurt knew he was still there, helping him like he always had. Even when he couldn't help himself.


End file.
